A Past Lost in the Future
by Draknal
Summary: 'She's all I have left. I won't let him take her from me too. I won't.' A look into Morgan's past, and how she came to Ylisse. One-shot.


**A Past Lost in the Future**

Draknal: Hey there all. Here's another story, compliments of the inspiration I've gotten from Fire Emblem: Awakening. We know of the character "Morgan," but we know nothing of his/her past. They are from a future that we the player never get to see, leaving us to speculate for ourselves what it could have been like. For your reading pleasure, here's my go at it. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem, or any of its characters, just the plot of this story.

* * *

"_Chrom! We have to pull back, it's too much for us!"_

"_No! If we fall back now it'll all be for nothing!_

"_**And so your meager resistance falls. Your time has reached its end, mortals!"**_

"_It isn't worth your life Chrom… without you we stand no chance!"_

"_-ther."_

"Father?"

Robin's head snapped up at the sound of his daughter's voice, snow colored hair displacing ever so slightly from the motion. "I'm sorry, what was that Morgan?"

The tactician in training let out an exasperated sigh. "Father, you've been zoning out again. Are you tired? Do I need to help you to bed?"

A good natured chuckle escaped her father. "No, I've yet some energy to spare. Don't mind an old man and his wandering thoughts."

Such a depressing thought. He was nearing forty, yet his body ached as though he were going on eighty.

'It's getting worse,' frowned the master tactician as he stood from his chair, his bones groaning in protest. 'That cursed blood is accelerating things more quickly than I thought.'

"Come, let's go practice your work with a tome for a spell."

Morgan nodded with enthusiasm as she bolted for the front door of their cabin. Training with melee weapons was something she excelled in. Using a tome, however, was a bit trickier for the teen. Her magic potential was absolutely _monstrous,_ yet the actual task of bringing that to the surface was proving difficult, frustratingly so. Yet Robin was patient with her.

Slowly making his way out behind her, the cloaked man grabbed a thunder tome off of the table sitting next to the door. It would take a little more time, but she was so close to getting the hang of it. Considering how much she excelled at whatever she put her mind to, this would not best her much longer.

She was all ready standing a short distance away from the wooden targets they had set up.

"Come on father! I'll get it today, I promise!" called the youngster, her smile a mile wide.

Robin responded with a grin of his own. Seeing his daughter happy was one of the few joys he had left in life. He made his way over to his eager progeny with a slow but steady gait. Getting around was becoming more of a chore for him every day. But he wouldn't let physical pain stop him from overseeing his daughter's training.

"Okay," he said, coming to a stop next to the teen. "Let's see what you can do. Remember, focus on your target but don't overdo it. If you concentrate too hard you'll strain yourself and the spell may fail."

He received an eager nod in response. "Got it, father!"

Flipping her tome open, the tactician took aim at the target a scant forty feet away from her. Channeling her power into the tome, Robin watched on with interest. The inscription in the book ignited in a blazing white light. He could see the power gathering at the tips of his daughter's fingers.

The mage waved her hand in the direction of the dummy, directing the torrent of energy at its victim.

_**Crack-Thoom!**_

A bolt of lightning crashed down from above, scorching everything around its impact spot. The result may as well have been an explosion, dirt and stones being lifted into the air and flung every which way. A small crater was visible in the aftermath.

'Such raw magic power,' noted the elder tactician in awe. He had seen some powerful Thunder spells in his time, but _this _was ridiculous. The spell was designed to electrocute and scorch its target, not _detonate _it.

The grin slowly faded from Morgan's face as she noted the result of her spell. "Aww… I thought I had it that time," pouted the caster.

In spite of her best attempts, and the devastation that had occurred as a result, the dummy had not been struck by the attack. It had missed by about six feet. The resulting explosion, however, had caused the wooden target to topple over yet remain otherwise unscathed.

"A good effort Morgan. You were much closer this time. While your aim might not be spot on, I can't complain about the results. Should you manage to hit your target, they'll be in for a world of hurt," complimented her father.

The short-haired spell user puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. "It's harder than it looks!"

The one time tactician of Ylisse laughed good-naturedly, regretting the action a minute later as his body was wracked with a coughing fit. He waved off his concerned daughter, who had moved to assist him. The concern in her eyes wasn't lost on him.

"Here," he said after his coughing had subsided. "I'll show you once more how to do it properly. Be sure to pay attention this time."

Morgan nodded several times, her grin back in place.

Opening his own Thunder tome, the snow haired caster channeled his own power, which had sadly waned in recent years. Even so, he was still more than capable of executing a spell or two without trouble. Snapping his arm in the direction of the downed target, he admired the resulting lightning bolt that fell from the heavens.

_**Crack!**_

The dummy was ablaze instantly, a large section of it turning black immediately due to the voltage that had coursed through it.

He moved to address his child, but found himself incapacitated by a lance of pain searing its way into his skull. The area started to dim around him.

'What the… what's happening?' he bit out in his mind, fighting against the pain that threatened to overwhelm him.

Soon he was left alone in darkness.

"Morgan," he groaned. "Morgan! Where are you?"

Only silence answered him… at first…

"**So… **_**this **_**is where you've been hiding…**"

That voice… it couldn't be…

He slowly turned around, but found nothing waiting for him. His hazel orbs darted quickly from side to side, attempting to find some trace of the one who had addressed him, yet found nothing.

A searing crimson light opened in the sky above him. It was joined quickly by five others.

Primordial fear coursed through the tactician. 'No… it can't be. I was sure there was no way he could find me!'

The blood colored orbs all seemed to focus in on his small, shuddering form.

"**You cannot escape me Robin. No matter how fast you run, or where you choose to hide, I will **_**always **_**find you. You can't escape your destiny.**"

The darkness seemed to close in on him, constricting his weakened body and crushing it, causing the man to collapse to the ground. And then, as if by the grace of Naga herself, the oppressive force suddenly disappeared. Light and color returned once more to his vision.

The first thing he took note of was the worried visage of his daughter. "Father! Father, please speak to me! Are you all right?"

He groaned in pain. "I'm okay Morgan. Calm down."

It was an obvious lie, one she saw through easily. "You just collapsed father! Don't tell me you're okay. Here," she said slipping her father's arm around her shoulders. "Let me help you back to the house."

He nodded, allowing her to render assistance. "I just… it was just a dizzy spell Morgan. I think that attack took a bit more out of me than I had expected."

A strained smile made its way to the girl's face. "Well, you aren't quite as young as you used to be father."

'Don't I know it…' frowned the tactician.

When enough of his strength had returned, Robin removed himself from his daughter's grip, assuring her that he would be fine. He walked the last bit of distance to the house on his own power, but with Morgan by his side in case he fell again.

'He's coming… Somehow he managed to find me.'

He looked over at his daughter, who was watching him pensively.

'She's all I have left. I won't let him take her from me too. I _won't._'

He would have to think, and do so quickly. There was no telling how much time he had until the very thing that haunted his dreams stepped into their realm.

"Morgan, how about we have some tea? It always helps to calm me down a bit."

She nodded, though her gaze remained focused on her last remaining parent, its intensity never wavering. "Okay… give me a moment and I'll get us two cups."

"Actually!" started Robin, standing abruptly, against the protests of his weary body. "I'll prepare it today. I can't have you doing _everything _can I?"

The girl's frown wavered slightly as a smile made an attempt to break through. "Do you even remember how to prepare tea properly?"

He waved her off, a mock scoff sent towards his daughter. "I'm not _that _bad, thank you."

Morgan couldn't find it in her to be upset with her father over his easy dismissal of his previous event. She laughed, openly and honestly. "Father, you forgot how to properly inscribe a thunder spell in a tome last week and almost burnt the house down. We had to consult your old notes."

"Once!" he retorted, chuckling weakly as he prepared their tea, using a minor fire spell to heat the necessary water. "That was one time, and it was only due to how tired I was."

"I seem to recall you saying "One mistake is all it takes," father," quoted the tactician in training.

He carefully blended the dried tea leaves and water, adding a dash of an extra ingredient into one of the two cups.

"Hmph, such disrespect from my own child. I don't need to take this from you."

Morgan accepted her cup from her father, taking in the scent of the prepared drink. "Ah, it smells lovely. Hopefully it tastes just as good," she barbed.

"Brat," muttered the tactical master, taking a sip of his own beverage.

Silence descended upon the two mages as they sat in the presence of one another, each taking small indulgences in their tea. Father and daughter enjoyed simply being with one another, each reflecting on different things in the peaceful moment.

Their conversation came to a minor halt when the younger of the two tacticians let out a yawn, her eyelids ever so droopy as she covered the action with a hand.

"Feeling okay, Morgan?" he asked, a touch of concern evident on his facial features.

"I-" Another yawn escaped the mage in training. "I'm fine father. Just, feeling a little tired is all…"

A bark of laughter left her father's lips. "Ah, and weren't you just making fun of me for being tired earlier? Does that mean I can poke some fun at you now?"

A weak grin found its way to her face, even as her head continued to dip lower, nearing the table top. "Not… funny…"

The last of her resistance failed her, her skull landing on the top of the piece of wooden furniture with a light, "Thump". A quiet snore escaped her a moment later, evidence that she was asleep.

Pushing himself to his feet, Ylisse's former tactician hobbled over to his daughter. He leaned down and brushed a few stray hairs from his child's face. "I'm sorry Morgan. I can't lose you. I _won't."_

There was work to be done, and he knew not how much time he actually had in which to do it. Making his way around the small, spartan cabin, he gathered up what few items he needed, and made the necessary preparations for his actions to come.

Ten minutes later found him ready to go, a small pack upon his back with what he required. Gathering his still sleeping progeny in his arms, he made for the front door and stepped out into the still gleaming sunlight. And he walked…

X-x-X-x-X

His pace was steady, though his body was not. Several times he threatened to keel over, exhaustion bearing down upon his tired, battered body. He cursed the fact that Grima's corrupted blood flowed through his veins. It weakened him, acting like a poison that sapped his strength and caused his body to decay. His health just wasn't what it once was…

Yet he continued on, his still unconscious daughter held securely in his arms. His objective was close. He could see it in the distance, over the treetops. The massive stone architecture remained, a silent sentinel over the land in which they resided. Where it had come from, he knew not. The two tacticians had seen no other living human in the world in which they inhabited. So far as he knew, they were the _only _humans in that world.

He stopped short as the Outrealm Gate loomed overhead. Swirling crimson energies that comprised the portal still flickered and danced to and fro. Securing Morgan with only one arm, he reached into his favored cloak and drew a small stone. It may have been mistaken for a sapphire, but it was far more brilliant than any gemstone. Its cut was unnatural, but perfect. Light glimmered on the stone's surface, a rainbow of colors reflecting off of it.

"Naga's Tear. I didn't think I'd ever have to use this," he reflected quietly. Reaching out tentatively, he let his hand bearing the stone pass through the portal.

An immediate reaction flared in response. The gateway's energies surged outward, like a wave crashing upon rocks, scattering around he and his daughter. The rose color the magics bore before had changed, altered by the stone, into a misty blue hue. Darkness descended as a feeling of weightlessness overtook father and daughter. Then the ground disappeared beneath Robin's feet and the world shifted. When the gate's energies flowed back into the stone archway, both persons were gone.

…

Sun and blue skies awaited the father when he next opened his eyes. His daughter still lay contentedly in his arms, oblivious to world around her.

It was quiet, save the sound of chirping birds. They were in a meadow, as evidenced by the lush green grass and fields of flowers that surrounded them. It must have been summer time, if the warmth he felt through his tactician's cloak was any indication. But specifically, _where _they were, he didn't know.

'Good. If I don't know, neither does _he.'_

Looking around, he was surprised to find that they had not exited through an Outrealm Gate. A small blue portal, ellipse in shape no larger than an average human being, hung in the air behind him just off the ground. Without a containment structure to act as a focus for the portal, he was uncertain of how long it would last. He had to act quickly.

Laying his daughter down in the grass next to a bed of flowers, he removed the pack from his back and removed several of the items it contained. Opening a small pouch, he took a pinch of the violet dust from within and rubbed it upon his daughter's forehead, smearing it into the shape of an arcane symbol. The remaining dust he poured on the ground, creating a circle around the dozing girl.

Taking a dark tome he brought with him, he snapped it open to the needed page and uttered an incantation. The spell snapped into existence, dark fire blazing in his outstretched hand. Dropping the tome he had used, he took the final item he had brought in the pack and dropped it into his fiery hand. An herb, one meant for purification. Immediately the dark blaze consumed the plant, resulting in an explosion of light. The burning magics had turned white, dancing about his hand like wisps of smoke from a dying fire.

Kneeling by his daughter's side, he hesitated momentarily, asking himself if this was the best course of action.

'If I don't do this, she'll try to find a way back. That is a burden she does not need. This will give her a fresh start… away from what's coming.'

He steeled his resolve as he thought of losing her to Grima. 'No.'

His blazing palm made contact with his daughter's forehead. The dust he had laid around them exploded with light, fading only after a moment of luminescence. A twinge of pain flashed across the girl's face, settling after a moment into a blissful slumber once more.

It was done. Her memories had been locked away. It was a powerful hex, but a simple one. It would only unlock memories when she saw familiar things. But in this place, this world, there should be _nothing _familiar to her. It would leave her to build a new life. 'A safe one, with friends and hopefully her own family one day.'

It saddened him to think that he would not be there for that part of his daughter's life. Then it began to fully sink in. This would be the _last _time he would ever see her…

He bit back a sob, letting only a strangled choking sound escape.

But it was to no avail. She was his entire life now, and he was losing her. And worse, she wouldn't even remember him. Tears flowed unbidden down his cheeks as he pulled his daughter close.

No words were spoken as he reached into his pocket and drew forth a small golden chain. At the end, with the chain looped through it, was a ring. It was the very one he gave his wife on the day he proposed to her. Carefully, he placed the makeshift necklace around the dozing girl's neck, and made sure it was securely fastened.

Shedding the cloak he always wore, he laid the garment over her. Morgan had always loved the article of clothing, claiming that she would inherit it one day when she had completed her tactician's training.

Leaning down once more, he placed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I know you won't remember, Morgan, but know that I love you. And know that-" and shuddering sob wracked his body. "And know that your mother and I… we'll always be with you. We're very proud of you."

He wiped his tunic sleeve across his eyes, trying to stem the flow, yet failing miserably. The Plegian native forced himself to smile, even if it didn't quiet reach his eyes. "So grow up strong, and never doubt yourself."

Standing, the tactician turned to leave, glancing back only once at his sleeping child's form. "Goodbye, Morgan…"

And he did not look back again as he walked through the flickering portal. The gateway's form shuddered violently as he passed into it, and died a moment later, leaving no trace that he'd ever been there save the girl that slept soundly on the ground.

'Lady Naga, please watch over her…'

X-x-X-x-X

Bleary eyes cracked open, an action Morgan regretted immediately as sunlight invaded her sight. Moving a hand to shield her face, she found her movement restricted by something that was laying across her chest. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she looked down to see that it was an article of clothing. A cloak of some sort? It was… what was it?

Her hand flew to her temple as pain lanced through her brain. It was brief but, she could see a man wearing this cloak. He has a smile on his face, as he called her name. "Morgan. That's my name. And he… who was…?"

"Father…?"

'Morgan, my little girl. The love of my life,' he laughed.

As the pain abated, she stood and took stock of her situation. She knew not where she was. Taking the cloak, she slipped it on. No doubt her father would want it back. Now she just had to get back… back to… to where?

"I have to get back home, which is… ugh!" pain gripped her again, but no visions came this time. "I don't know which way to go…" she muttered.

"Father!" she called, cupping her hands around the sides of her mouth. "Father!" she tried once more. Again no response came to her. She would have to find him on her own then!

"Okay, keep calm Morgan. Try to find either structures or a landmark. Glancing around, she could see neither. So- wait! To the east she could see a glint of bluish silver. Walls? A structure of some kind? Or _ruins _perhaps.

"Guess I'll start there, then!" declared the amnesiac. "Father probably went that way to explore."

In that case she would follow. And so she set off, her intent clear. "Just wait for me father, I'll find you in no time!"

-End-

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Draknal: Just another random thought. I won't lie, I teared up a bit as I wrote this. Specifically, at the point where Robin was saying goodbye for the last time. But anyway, what did you think? I tried to keep any info regarding Morgan to a minimum, so that way this story was applicable this character regardless of who her mother was.

Please leave me a review. It lets me know that you want to see me keep writing things like this for Fire Emblem. Or perhaps you have a suggestion for something you'd like to see? That works too.


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